Note added 1:22 AM on Sunday, March 25, 2012 - This is very much under construction, and I'll be adding a lot more tomorrow, but for now, I really want to go to bed. Come back later.



NOTE: For TOS related reasons, the story I mention below will never be seen in its entirety, on this copy of my site, unless Geocities.ws changes those terms of service. I mention "R rated" content, but I will not post such content, here. When the time comes, I'll post it on a less censorious host. All that you're going to see in this part of this copy of this site is a discussion of the story, and excerpts from the story that are safe for less mature audiences. Links to the more mature content will take the reader to interstitial pages, put in place by me, warning him about what he is about to see, and asking him if he'd like to turn page. Said interstitials will probably be not be hosted either on Geocities.ws or the site on which the mature material is to be found.

I think that it is a foolish policy, one destined to doom homepage providers like Geocities.ws to cultural irrelevance, as the providers futily attempt to appease people who can't be appeased, because they live to complain. Even so, I have made a good faith effort to abide by the rules as stated and will continue to do so. What I will not do is bowdlerize my writing, however amateurish it might be, just to do my part to make a few control freaks happy. It is what it is, and it will always be that, without compromise and without concern for the concerns of those who need therapy far more than they need indulgence, because there is no other way to write.







This story began as something based, very very loosely, on a freewrite called "now me too" (yes, all lower case). I know very little about the man, and all that I do know can be found though his profile on Tribe. As a warm up, as I create this site, I decided to visit the Free Write group on Tribe, a social network that is always fading away, but which never seems to fade out, because its creator hasn't the heart to let it die. I printed out the free writes from the first few pages of listings, deciding that whatever these were about, that's what the corresponding stories were going to be about, and I was going to stick to that, no matter what.

Freewriting is the practice of sitting down and scribbling whatever pops into one's head, in a flowing stream of consciousness, without concern for quality or rational examination. It is the human subconscious having a core dump onto the page. The virtue of this, for me, as I build on the work of others, is that it gets me out of my own head where, like a lot of quiet people, I spend far too much time. I get to wander around somebody else's thoughts and impulses, and because I have to take those as I get them, I can't filter those impulses back to anything resembling my own. I deny myself a path back to my own comfort zone, which is a place to which I certain found myself strongly tempted to return as I started writing this - and that was a good thing.

As I'm writing this, I've just printed out another copy of marston's freewrite, just in case it or Tribe vanishes. Marston's prose challenged me, as I fleshed this out into a story. The subconscious connnections he was drawing were ones alien to my way of thinking. As I've been writing this story, I've tried to create a framework in which those connections become natural. I don't think that this is the framework marston himself would have created - probably only marston, himself could create that - but it is a framework that, without the creative perturbation that I experienced as I studied marston's freewrite, I probably wouldn't have found. Which, by the way, is sort of the point of the group in which I found the freewrite, if you were wondering, the administrator of the group writing

"If you write here others might read it! Please keep comments abstract. Maybe non sequiturs, or other stories that are triggered by what you read. But remember free, as in not constrained."

People post to the group with the expectation that others might build on what they've done. It's understood. What you'll see on this site is not free form enough to fit into that group, even if there's more than a little free association happening as I pen this response in which so little of the original ends up being found, but I expect that I will, later, write a little embarassingly revealing prose of my own, into which somebody will no doubt find deep meanings that aren't there, based on some half baked psychological theory or another, if the Web still is what it has always been.

One very significant way in which I've been pushed out of the comfort zone to which I referred, earlier, is this story is a lot more explicit than anything I've ever written before. There was no escaping this. marston - he leaves his name uncapitalized - has sex on his mind through his freewrite. It's what the freewrite is about, and to be true to my exercise, on my terms, I have to embrace that. What you see won't be X rated, but it definitely will be R rated, which is why you're not seeing this story mirrored on Webring Webspace. (I might mirror it on Tribe). Having said, elsewhere, that I had never seen a non-gratuitous nude scene on stage, I find myself writing a story in which the nudity is inescapable, something that one could not remove without gutting the story. My discomfort could not have been greater, but discomfort is the point, isn't it?

01. Lost

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